Innocent Until Proven Guilty
by Hikaru Irving
Summary: Sequel to The Innocent Tethe'alla, technological superpower, had delcared war on the weaker, more rural Sylvarant, an infant country. Although world domination was lofty enough, the new king of Tethe'alla has his eyes on a bigger prize: the Eternal Sword.
1. Prologue

Hikaru: TRILOGY, BABY! I've got this one all planned out beforehand, so this story won't take three years to finish! Hopefully . . .

Nem: Hikaru Irving doesn't own anything that she does not own.

--

_Who am I?_

She had first thought to return to the place of her angel birth, the holy city Welgaia. She could have gone, but something compelled her to stay on the surface of the daughter planet of Derris-Kharlan. She didn't know exactly what did, but she thought it might have had something to do with the odd dark-haired boy that rescued her from soullessness on Welgaia. She could not remember his name, only the name he gave her—Belle.

The boy—her savior—had told the others he met up with at the Giant Tree to take care of her. But when the boy left in that flash of light, none of the others remembered anything about the boy, so she didn't know if they would remember anything about her. She left them, sought solace elsewhere.

She spent all of her sixteen years on this planet observing the countries and its societies, to find a place where she could live.

But most of the villages and cities are rather alienated toward angels, what she is. She didn't resent them for thinking that way, but she didn't know where else to go. She recalled nothing before her life as an angel, and even those memories were few and far between.

She had no past, and still sought her future.

To find out, she searched for the boy . . . for her savior.

--

Hikaru: That's it for the prologue! I'll bet a number of you were wondering what happened to Belle, so . . . cha. She'll have a bigger role later on. Please review!


	2. The Young Shinobi

Hikaru: First chapter!

--

Deep in the Iselian Forest, beyond the empty, haunted human ranch that once belonged to the Desians of old, two ninja of New Mizuho trained ferociously. They were young, sixteen each, and were twin brother and sister. The brother, Leneth, leapt into the treetops, panting as if he ran a marathon. He tightened his navy blue scarf, the scarf his mother had given him along with the dark blue ninja uniform his uncle Orochi had gifted to him a few years back. His short black ponytail at the nape of his neck was a little loose, so Leneth fixed it, short katana in hand, waiting.

His sister Liath was around here, somewhere. Once or twice he thought he caught sight of her telltale long, blood red braid, but it turned out to be his imagination. A small shruiken flew at him from nowhere; Leneth jumped to another treetop, catching the offending projectile on his way. It was definitely Liath's weapon. Her long-range weapons were shruiken and kunai knives, while Leneth preferred writing spells in guardian cards and throwing those. Both siblings fought with short katanas in close proximity.

Leneth tried again to look for in the shadowed forest any sign of Liath's black scarf and ninja garb. He gulped down a breath of air, decided to try and snuff her out. It just wasn't fair! Liath was so damned good at covert operations, while Leneth thrived in the middle of all the action! Leneth, strapped for air he was, forced himself to quiet his breathing, just in case Liath with her damnable keen hearing was nearby. Liath seemed to be able to hear even the faintest sounds really well, unspeakably well. Idly Leneth wondered if Liath's sense of smell was as acute.

At once the forest silenced.

Not even the crickets or the birds made any sort of noise whatsoever, just as if they watched the mock-battle rage on. Leneth crouched on his tree branch, leaning closer to the shadows to avoid being seen. His hand traveled to his pocket, where his guardian cards rested. He knew each card by its somewhat muted mana signature. He grabbed and withdrew one enchanted with Aska's power of light. He breathed more evenly now.

All at once he jumped to the ground, throwing Aska's card where he thought Liath might be hidden. He ran with his back to the card, short katana at the ready.

The forest exploded with bright light, and surely enough he heard the yelp of his sister at being blinded with such light in so dark a region. Leneth grabbed another card.

"Demon Fang!"

Leneth had no time to use his card; a shockwave threw him off his feet completely. Laughter filled his ears, and Liath came forward, rubbing at her eyes.

"Nice try, Len," she smiled, "but I win!"

Leneth sighed, getting to his feet. The card he had held was ripped.

"Dammit . . . you always do that! Force me to the ground, and then Demon Fang!"

Liath played with her braid, still smirking at her brother.

"That was pretty clever, though . . . I didn't expect you to use Aska's power like that."

"But that's nothing compared to his true power! I want to see Mom summon him just once . . ." Leneth threw up his arms, sighing again.

At this Liath's smile faltered.

"Yeah, but Mom doesn't really have a reason to summon. We're perfectly safe right now. No reason to fight."

"Best to be prepared, though."

Leneth drew his katana, grinning widely. Liath blinked twice over before she smiled, reaching for her knives.

"You're on!"

--

All battered and bruised up, Leneth and Liath recorded the results of their sparring (which Liath mostly won) before a quick trip to the New Mizuho hot springs. The springs at the House of Guidance in Tethe'alla was natural, but the ones here Leneth's grandfather Kratos, with the help of a few others in the village, had built. After the quick dip, they went straight to the village to help out.

Some houses' thatch roof needed repairing, the fields and gardens needed tending, and one always needed to check the nearby river to see if anything happened to it. This year's harvest looked to be a good one, and the prosperity of the earth reminded Leneth of the fairy tale his grandfather used to tell him and Liath when they were small. He recalled the opening words well—

_Once upon a time, there was a giant tree that was the source of mana . . ._

The Giant Tree, Yggdrasill, indeed existed, but the legend of the Chosen One? Now _that _had to be a fairly tale! Chosen Ones and saving the land from destruction were horribly clichéd, anyway. Or like that Dwarven Vow that his father taught him—

_Dwarven Vow #7: Goodness and love will always win!_

Man, that is such a cheesy line for anyone to be saying these days! But, Leneth's father and dwarven grandfather always reminded him never to forget it, so in Leneth's mind the vow stayed.

When the day's work was over, Leneth and Liath headed back to their house, where their mother the Chief of the village lived.

"Man, I'm bushed," Leneth sighed as soon as he slid the door shut. From the kitchen he smelled the aroma of oden, miso soup, steamed rice, ramen, and so much other good stuff cooking. Liath took her shoes off, sitting down at the low table on a mat.

"C'mon Leneth! Be a little stronger!"

He shot his sister an annoyed glare.

"I would if you wouldn't chase me with knives and shruiken all day long!"

Liath only shrugged, polished ivory chopsticks already in her hand.

"Dinner smells about ready. Help set the table."

"All right . . ."

As Leneth ambled over to the wooden chest that contained all the currently clean dishes, his eyes wandered to the wall, where two swords hung on golden mantles. They were magic swords, so his mother said. One of flame, and one of ice. Flamberge and Vorpal. Leneth's dwarven grandfather, Dirk, had forged Vorpal, and Flamberge once belonged to Kratos, and he never said where it came from.

Lloyd, Leneth and Liath's father, once used those swords, but now he just left them for display. For the family heirloom, he said. Leneth couldn't understand why those magnificent swords should be left alone. Sure, they were quite pretty, but wouldn't they be put to better use in fighting? Well, like Liath said, there wasn't much use for fighting except to fight off the occasional pack of monsters, but . . .

Leneth frowned, returning to the task of getting ready for dinner.

Whenever he talked to Lloyd about the swords, his father always got this distant look in his eyes, as if remembering something better left unsaid. Come to think of it, Leneth didn't really know much about his parents. His mother, Sheena, was an exceptional summoner, and had all the pact rings and formed pacts with every single Spirit on all of Aselia. Sheena was the Chief of New Mizuho, fought in the Igaguri style with guardian cards. Lloyd was a swordsman, a self-taught twin blader. Lloyd was orphaned at a young age, came to be raised by Dirk, and was found by Kratos later on. That was all he really knew. Lloyd always wore a strip of cloth tied around his left hand, even if he wore a glove, and no matter how many times Leneth asked what it was, his father would shrug and say simply, "Just an old battle wound." Oh, come on, now. There had to be something more.

Whenever Leneth asked his sister what she thought on these things, she would only shrug and state she was never all that curious. How could she not be?

As the Fujibayashi-Irving family ate their dinner, chatting amiably, Leneth silently made it his goal to find out more about his parents.

After all, his mother can't have become a summoner without a good reason, and those two swords on the wall must have a story of their own . . .

_Curiosity killed the cat, Leneth . . ._

Leneth didn't really have much of a fondness for cats.


	3. The Attack

Hikaru: I apologize for my long hiatus. I'm finished with Glow of the Teriques and now I can fully focus on this story again. I didn't lie when I said I had everything planned. Many of you probably already gave up on this story, but I'm going to finish it ... if only for myself. I debated for a while posting the synopsis and leaving it at that, but I thought I should finish it.

--

Every once in a while each ninja in training would be tested by one of the trainers. Today Orochi had opted to test Leneth and Liath's skills. To help gauge their abilities, Orochi had enlisted the help of the best fighters in the nearby Village of Oracles--Alain and Waltharia, the son and daughter of Colette and Noishe Brunel.

The Iselian siblings were quite able fighters, being the children of the warrior priestess mayor and leader of the militia. Alain, a captain of the militia, was sixteen years old but bore a great mental maturity beyond his years, a great warrior, and had at his command a pack of wolves sired by the ice wolf Fenrir. Alain used a short sword and a bow.

Waltharia was the apprentice of her mother's friend, Genis Sage. In close quarters the fifteen-year-old used a one-handed sword.

Back in the deep Iselian Forest, the old building complex called a "ranch" (which was horrendously overgrown) was the location of the test.

Leneth had his own misgivings. He and Liath were going to be tested separately. Liath was to fight Waltharia (Withi for short), and Leneth Alain in different parts of the massive complex. Where Liath fought Leneth didn't know, but he and Alain were going against one another in the courtyard, with the massive gate.

As Leneth quickly but silently moved about the top of the old gate, using tree branches to keep his balance if he slipped, he thought. Liath's specialty was melee fighting using a variety of projectiles, and knew the spells Kratos taught her. Leneth, on the other hand, was a little of melee and his mother's own seal-fighting style, except the cards were imbued with the power of the Spirits.

Leneth leapt soundlessly on the old wall of the ranch gate. In the shadows afforded by the tree canopy, he looked for his target--Alain. Alain had just walked through the gate, Orochi having released him further down the path. Alain was the best archer anyone would have heard of in the Iselian region. He had superhuman accuracy, and if he spotted his target, the target might not know it.

Careful to stay in the shadows, it wasn't long before Leneth spotted Alain--his short green hair wasn't camouflage enough. Alain had an arrow nocked to his bowstring, but he didn't pull it taut. He was still looking for Leneth.

Leneth pulled out a seal bearing Shadow's power, and murmured over it. He felt the mana wash over him--the darkness would help conceal him from Alain.

As Leneth wound his way down, creeping ever closer to Alain, he had a number of seals at the ready. Alain still had no idea that Leneth stalked him--he kept the arrow loosely at the bowstring, and he kept his gaze forward.

Leneth had a seal in his palm. He crept closer ... closer ... there!

Leneth lunged forward, hand slapping the seal on Alain's back--at will he activated it.

"Pyre Seal!"

The piece of paper exploded, and Alain went flying, floored. Leneth pursued, more seals at hand; Alain quickly leapt to his feet, bow at the ready.

Alain was smiling.

Leneth realized it was too late.

"Thunder Blitz!"

He let the arrow fly. There was so little distance between them that Leneth had no hope of dodging. He saw the arrow--crackling with purplish blue electricity--the split second before it hit.

"Augh!"

Leneth caught the ground, pushing off it and moving his legs to flip back on his feet. How? How had Alain known exactly where he was? He should still be cloaked by Shadow's mana!

By then Leneth realized--Shadow's mana was gone from him. Leneth backed away, mentally debating whether or not to continue using seals or to go with his short katana.

Alain, nocking another arrow to his bow, seemed to read Leneth's mental question.

"Being the son of a warrior priestess has its advantages." Alain said with a smile, rather conversationally.

Leneth cursed; how could he forget? Colette was a warrior priestess of the highest caliber. Of couse she'd pass on her training to her children. Alain must've sensed the dark mana about Leneth and dispelled it. That was the reason Alain let himself be hit.

Leneth smiled. He hoped Liath was doing all right against Waltharia. That girl could perform advanced magic for her age.

Leneth shuffled through his seals, sensing each card's own unique mana and signature trail. To recede into the shadows now would be foolhardy. The time for close quarters was now.

Alain seemed to think the same thing, even if he did take a cheap shot: he nocked multiple arrows and let them fly all at once, each one glimmering with differing elements as they rained down.

Leneth dashed underneath the elemental rain of arrows, dodging some, deflecting others with a Guardian Seal. Alain, lightning-quick, slung his bow over his shoulder, drawing a short sword, the blade engraved with angelic runes.

They pitted sword against sword, Iselian make versus Mizuhon make, sparks flying as they exchanged swings, each never quite managing to do much more to the other than a few slices into one another's clothing. Leneth bided his time with Alain--he wanted a chance to slap another seal on him.

But neither Alain nor Leneth had another chance for more fighting--for when they next swung their blades at one another, some unseen force threw them back, sending them flying across the forest floor. Coughing, Alain stood, shakily using his sword to get to his feet. Leneth wiped a thin stream of blood from his mouth; what _was_ that?

Standing at the very spot where the force field had been was a young woman. She had a burnished bronze skin tone and sleek, black hair swept her upper back. Blue beads for earrings framed the sides of her face, and her dark eyes blank. Despite the many foreign aspects of this woman, there was one thing Leneth recognized about her--she was dressed in a short red and white robe, tied with a short yellow obi--it took Leneth a few moments to register the fact that this woman who had attacked them was _dressed in the garb of Mizuho._

"Alain!" Leneth shouted, struggling to his feet, "run!"

Leneth and Liath might only be trainees in their ninja clan, but this woman looked to be a fully trained one, to deliver such an attack right after teleportation.

Alain shook his head, nocking an arrow to his bow, aiming at the woman, who noticed this. She was a reddish yellow blur as she rushed Alain--his bow was ripped from him, and a flurry of quick kicks toppled Alain to the ground. Leneth's heart raced, blood pounding in his ears.

He didn't know why this woman was attacking them, or even who she was, but he did know they had to get out, and fast.

Dammit, where was Orochi? Probably observing Liath and Withi right now, who were a little ways deeper in the forest.

Leneth drew out his deck of seals, flipping through them, deciding which one would help him out the most right now--the woman was looking his way, going right for him--Leneth slapped on a random seal without thinking, unleashing the mana within it.

The woman's eyes were wide in shock, and she fell to the the forest floor, coughing hoarsely. As Leneth dashed to Alain's side, he glimpsed the seal he had used on her--it was a seal to cut off the circulation of metabolized energy from within her body, thus the sudden exhaustion.

Upon reaching Alain, Leneth threw one of his arms over his own shoulders, and used a teleportation seal. The final thing he saw before disappearing was the woman struggling to get up, mumbling something underneath her breath.

--

"--and then she tried to attack me, but I got her with a seal and then we teleported here!" Leneth screeched, shaken and infinitely afraid for Alain, whom had fallen unconscious not long after arriving at the village. Liath, Withi, and Orochi had come back a little while after Leneth returned, and Kratos had demanded an explation while he healed Alain.

Leneth's parents were not in the village. Vice-Chief Tiga and Great-Grandfather Igaguri had explained that Lloyd and Sheena, as the leaders of one region of Sylvarant, had headed off to the Sylvarantian Council held in the water-city Luin, where the other leaders of the cities of Sylvarant--including Alain and Waltharia's parents--had gone as well.

Since each region of Sylvarant had its own leader, it was decided that a country-wide council would be a more suitable way of ruling than choosing a single monarch. Monarchy had proved obsolete for a long while in Sylvarant.

Kratos, after healing Alain to the best of his ability with Healing Stream, had gone deeper into the house, not saying a word after his grandson's explanation. He returned with two sheathed swords, and with a start Leneth recognized the hilts on each one--Kratos threw him the one with a silvery blue hilt.

"D-dad's swords?!" Leneth squeaked, as Kratos handed the other sword to Liath, who was equally speechless.

Lloyd never liked anyone or anything distrubing the rest of these swords. Why did Liath and Leneth's grandfather suddenly find the need to give the swords to them? Leneth began to think that Kratos had gone senile.

But Kratos sat everyone down in the common room of the Chief's house, and he looked sternly at his grandchildren.

"Your parents wanted you two to live normal lives, and didn't want you concerned with happenings outside the village, although I advised them otherwise. But there is trouble outside this village. Sylvarant is a relatively new country, only having recently formed together as one. The other country in this world is Tethe'alla, and is more technologically advanced than Sylvarant. Thusly, Tethe'alla is suffering from a lack of natural resources and good farm land. Your parents and the other leaders of Sylvarant must meet to decide how to counter Tethe'alla--for it has declared war upon Sylvarant."

Leneth and Liath knew of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla--they had studied maps, the geography, the towns, and the social systems of each country under Kratos and Orochi, although they had never actually been outside their village.

Kratos continued.

"Sheena, a summoner, had once formed pacts with all the Spirits of Aselia, this you know. However, since she fulfilled her pacts, the Spirits are no longer bound to her. Other summoners are free to make pacts with the Spirits as they see fit."

_So that's why Mom never summoned any Spirits before ..._

"Sheena was once connected to each Spirit she had a pact with." Here Kratos seemed uneasy. "She noticed that some of the connections she had with Tethe'allan Spirits are gone. With Tethe'alla at war with us, there is one thing they are most eager to get their hands on, the ultimate weapon of the world, the Eternal Sword. And the three of us hold the key to unlocking it."

Leneth looked at the sword in his hands. Now that he held it, the mana within it seemed to be pulsing, as if with a heart of its own. Liath must be feeling the same thing in the other sword. Leneth wondered what other item there was to unlocking this Eternal Sword, when he saw a seemingly normal silver ring on Kratos's finger. It was a pact ring, which must mean ...

"You have to make a pact with a Spirit to get the sword?" Leneth blurted out.

Kratos nodded. "One must form a pact with Origin, the King of the Spirits, whom has control over time and space. WIth it, Tethe'alla could rid itself of pollution and renew its land. However, one never must possess the Eternal Sword again. Its power once before changed the nature of the world and put it in a twisted form."

Alain, newly conscious, scoffed. "And this King of Spirits allowed this?" Waltharia remained silent beside her brother.

Kratos gave him a sharp look. "Origin was tricked."

Leneth leapt to his feet, eyes frantically wide. "And--that girl that attacked us--she's Tethe'allan? And she's after the Eternal Sword components?"

Kratos nodded. "She is a member of Old Mizuho, the village of Mizuho that existed before this one, in Tethe'alla. Its chief is Azumi Kuchinawa, Orochi's brother."

Leneth stared at Orochi, disbelieving. The Chief of Old Mizuho had deliberately sent that person to attack New Mizuho and steal the parts of the Eternal Sword? Orochi looked apologetic.

"I never imagined that Kuchinawa would do such a thing ... he of all people should know that the Eternal Sword must be kept out of reach!"

Liath stood, too, her hands shaking on her sword. "If that girl came so close to the village ... would more Tethe'allans come here?"

A deafening silence engulfed the common room. Kratos stood.

"We must leave."

--

It was still in the Iselian Forest, but Kratos had insisted they visited Dirk, Leneth and Liath's dwarven grandfather, before leaving New Mizuho for good. The people of Mizuho could take care of themselves, and besides which Orochi was with them. Alain, once fully healed, took Waltharia back to Iselia, although he wanted so much to go with them.

Kratos already changed from his Mizuho garb into a suit of purple with shoulder guards and a swallowtail cloak. However, Leneth and Liath only had their shinobi garb, and wandering outside Mizuho wearing such clothing would be suicide.

So that was the reason behind visiting Dirk--to have Sylvarantian (or dwarven clothing) clothing made for them so as not to be conspicuous outside of Mizuho. Dirk was delighted to be able to make clothing for his grandkids--he designed the clothes with great zeal (of course asking Leneth and Liath if they liked this one or that one). For a human, making an entirely new full set of clothing would take quite a bit of time, even with bolts of the appropriate fabric and patterns in advance, but Dirk was a dwarf, a master of craftsmanship.

Liath had a rich red tunic with a gold embroidered, low collar--but the collar was modest and didn't show much. The tunic was short sleeved, and with it she had a pair of black pants and matching gloves and knee-high boots of a dark brown, like the bark of a tree. Her hair stayed in its braid.

Leneth, on the other hand, had a little more complex outfit (for Dirk would not accept simplicity here). Well, the clothes themselves were rather simple (a dark blue short sleeved shirt and pants of a lighter blue with black gloves), but the sleeveless coat and knee-high boots would have none of it.

The overcoat and boots had designs on them that Leneth liked, but part of the overcoat was a little difficult to button up without practice.

After staying at Dirk's house for a number of days, Leneth had sought out his biological grandfather. Kratos could always be found standing at the grave beside Dirk's house--the grave of Leneth and Liath's grandmother.

"Kratos," Leneth said, for it always bugged him to address him as his grandfather, "I know you said we had to leave ... but where will we go now? If Tethe'alla attacks full on, well, we're not exactly distant from their target, are we?"

Kratos turned to face his grandson.

"Although Tethe'alla has declared war, it's still possible that Old Mizuho is acting on its own. Therefore ... I must go to Old Mizuho and see Kuchinawa about this myself."

Leneth's eyes went wide and he immediately protested animatedly,

"No! If you go alone, what will we do if we are attacked?"

Kratos quirked an eyebrow, and Leneth ducked his head, suddenly ashamed for his outburst.

"Sylvarant already has a vanguard against attack in every major settlement of the country. It was the best to hope for as long as Sylvarant remains formally divided. The Luin Council is meant to unify the people of Sylvarant in order to successfully mount a counterattack on Tethe'alla. You must journey to Luin and rejoin your parents."

Leneth was simultaneously excited and crestfallen. He would get to travel, something he'd always wished for, but the way he would travel ... not so much. He didn't fancy much the idea of throwing off anybody pursuing the fragments of the Eternal Sword. The Vorpal Sword strapped his his back felt such a heavy burden now.

"However," Kratos continued, "You, Liath, and I must travel separately. If any of us are captured by Tethe'alla, they'll have only one part of the key, but I wouldn't underestimate them--they might already have a summoner. Of course, we won't travel alone."

Leneth noticed that Kratos was looking past him, toward the little stream that ran before Dirk's house. Turning around, the shinobi collectively gasped.

"Alain! Withi!"

The Brunel siblings dashed up to him, worry evident in their faces. A few days prior, Alain and Waltharia had been rather unceremoniously dropped off at Iselia without so much a peep as to where Leneth and Liath would be taken. Alain raked a hand through his short hair, and Withi, too, was fidgeting with her braids.

Leneth quirked an eyebrow at the sight--the two Brunels never were ones to fidget.

"Yes," Kratos said, eyeing at the gear the Brunels carried on them--Alain had replaced the bow he'd lost, he still had his sword and quiver of arrows, and Withi, although already a powerful mage, had a one-handed sword belted to her waist. "Loath I am to let you go without any sort of heavier protection, the son and daughter of Colette and Noishe are more than enough. Alain, you will travel with Leneth, and Withi, have you any qualms about going with Liath?"

Withi and Alain simultaneously nodded in response. Of course they'd go--who wouldn't want their childhood friends to go unprotected?

Kratos motioned with a hand, and the teenagers followed him inside Dirk's house. The inside smelled strongly of the forge, and the dwarf was busy forging more weaponry--throwing knives, more swords--for it wouldn't do for Leneth and Liath's weapons betray their place of origin to enemy forces.

They all took seats at a table, and Kratos unrolled a map of Aselia. The continents of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla had mingled, but nonetheless boundaries had been placed between the two countries. The Iselian continent was easy to point out. Kratos with a pen circled the Iselian region in the north.

"This is where we are now. This region is dangerously close to the Tethe'allan military base near Latheon Gorge. We know Tethe'alla cannot get its hands on the Eternal Sword, so we must put as much distance between ourselves as possible."

Kratos drew a line down the Iselian continent, an obvious out of the way path passing through north and then northwest, eventually coming to Luin, the capital of Sylvarant.

"One group must go this route to Luin. Another ..." Obviously the other group was to go by ship, for he drew a line across the Latheon Channel, into the gulf, and landing in a very forested area. "Must journey to Heimdall, the village of the elves. They are neutral in human conflict and understand the importance of the Eternal Sword and the Spirits. And finally I will go to Old Mizuho."

Kratos did not on the map detail the route he would use to go to the old ninja village.

Kratos looked between the two pairs of teenagers--Leneth and Liath, heavily trained though they were, had not yet seen real combat, while Alain and Waltharia, co-leaders of Iselia village's militia to fight off monsters, certainly had. He was a little worried ... but ...

"Leneth, you and Alain will go to Luin and warn Sheena and Lloyd of the danger. Liath, you and Waltharia will go by ship to Heimdall. I trust there are no objections?"

Mute head shakes provided Kratos's answer.

The rest of their short stay at Dirk's house was spent preparing the long journey ahead. Dirk and Kratos procured traveling supplies--food, money, medicine, tents, so and so forth.

Leneth had a hard time getting used to the idea of separating from his sister.

On the eve of their journey's start, the Mizuhon siblings sat together on a bench, watching the sunset above the trees of the woods.

"I didn't think ... we'd ever go outside the village like this." Leneth said, somewhat detached.

Liath gave a noncommittal shrug.

"If Tethe'alla plans to attack the Iselian region first, we'd have to move no matter what. War is approaching. We'll have to hide out for a while ... you, deep in friendly territory, and I in neutral territory. I'm just jealous you get to see Mom and Dad."

"I am nervous ..." Leneth replied, "but I trust Kratos. He told us about the situation when our own parents wouldn't."

Liath giggled. "Yeah, he's got that sort of no-nonsense thing about him. He is Dad's father, he knows what he's doing."

A long silence prevailed as the shinobi twins contemplated the unknowable future set ahead of them. After a time, Leneth spoke up with a question.

"So ... the current king of Tethe'alla ... what's he like, I wonder?"

"King Hugh," Liath said, digging up the name from a lesson they'd had a while ago, "He was formerly the heir to Viscount Lionel of the Gaoracchia lands, but he married into the royal family by his marriage with Princess Hilda. King Tethe'alla the XVIIIth protested the marriage initially, but it went through after his ... untimely death. King Hugh is said to be ruthless in his rule."

Leneth frowned. "Tethe'alla seems to have it all together. Whereas the only form of organization we have is a vanguard in every city, and we're not even a formally united country yet."

"Don't worry," Liath reassured her brother, "Mom and Dad will make sure the Luin Council will go through."

Leneth stood, walking around to the front of Dirk's house. He heard voices inside, Withi and Alain discussing their own views about this journey.

Excited as he was about traveling, Leneth couldn't help but feel apprehensive, couldn't shake a feeling that something bad was going to happen.

And these feelings of his were usually right.


	4. Setting Out

Hikaru: For concept art of the second-gen characters, visit my Deviantart account--search for by:Hikaru-Irving to find my gallery.

--

As a shinobi in training Leneth was used to waking up at first light or even earlier. Nonetheless he was still somewhat unprepared when Kratos woke him, telling him in hushed voice to get ready. Leneth quickly buttoned up his overcoat, slipped on his boots and gloves, tying off his hair in a small tail at the nape of his neck.

Vorpal sword was still sheathed, tucked away in a corner of the room. Leneth grabbed it, strapped it to his back. Alain was still sleeping on the floor.

"Alain," Leneth muttered, gently nudging him with a foot. "Get up."

Alain blinked, groggy. Leneth gave him another nudge, this time more insistent, and Alain got up. It was still dark, so Leneth lit a lantern for his friend's benefit. Together they geared up in relative silence, noises of the girls downstairs getting ready as well. The seriousness of the situation was finally becoming apparent.

Alain grumbled something under his breath as he strapped his quiver of arrows to his back along with his bowcase. His sword was already belted to his waist.

"What was that?" Leneth asked, quirking an eyebrow as he folded the blankets he and Alain had been using in lieu of beds.

Alain found a comb, raking it through his disheveled hair, still rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

"The girls have it easier," He said as he combed his bangs down, "they get to go by ship. We have to hoof it across Triet, the Ossa Trail and then past Izoold due north across the land bridge, past Hima ... and then reach Luin. Oi."

Leneth let out a low whistle. It was a long way to be traveling on foot, even with a good pace--he may be a Mizuhon, but he'd never had to march before.

A thought struck him as Alain handed him the comb.

"Can't we catch a ship at Izoold?"

Alain shook his head, no.

"We can't. We'd be deviating from what Kratos told us to do, and we can't be sure if King Hugh doesn't have spies seeking us already. Besides, Hima doesn't have a port. It'd be better to just suck it up and march the whole way."

That made Leneth shut up. He knew how extensive New Mizuho's information network was, what was to stop Old Mizuho from aiding Tethe'alla pertaining to the location of the segments of the Eternal Sword?

If indeed Old Mizuho was aiding Tethe'alla ... or acting on its own. Either prospect was scary enough.

When they made ready, they headed downstairs, where Dirk was already serving Kratos, Liath, and Withi a quick breakfast. Leneth and Alain took seats at the table, making quick work of the stew set before them. Kratos was already finished eating, and he kept looking out the windows--dawn was approaching, although it would be at least another hour before first light.

"The ferry to Latheon's House of Guidance leaves at midday. Liath, you and Waltharia have to be as inconspicuous as possible if you're going to make it to Heimdall through Tethe'allan territory."

Liath nodded resolutely--Kratos had made arrangements for the ferry to go to Heimdall after its initial stop, so all she and Waltharia had to do was stay on the ship, disembark at the appropriate time, and journey to Heimdall. The elves had already been informed of the situation and would readily take in the two young women.

Leneth finished his meal and took his dishes to the sink, rinsing them off. Alain quickly followed suit.

"Leneth, you and Alain must leave now." Kratos said sternly, standing at the door. "We have to put as much distance between ourselves as possible. I trust you're prepared?"

Leneth wanted to scream _no _he wasn't prepared; he didn't want to be separated from his sister or have to trek halfway across Sylvarant to face Origin knew what. He mutely nodded--his parents were going to have a lot of explaining to do when Leneth and Alain finally reached Luin.

With that Kratos opened the door and walked outside. Leneth gave Liath one last look before following his grandfather, Alain hot on his heels.

Kratos had accompanied them as far as the end of the forest, but when they reached the Iselian road he had turned back, saying something about wanting to make sure Liath and Waltharia made their ship all right.

Leneth heaved a sigh, looking to the vast expanse of grassland before them, the only thing cutting through the sea of green the packed dirt road.

"Well, let's go," Alain said, taking up the lead as he walked at a brisk pace, "if we press onward, we should be able to reach the Triet desert and perhaps the city by nightfall."

Leneth followed up after his friend easily on the road. They walked swiftly but easily, and by the time the sun rose into midmorning they'd put much distance between the Iselian Woods and themselves. If Leneth had to guess he'd say he and Alain were somewhere in the upper third of the grasslands between Iselia and Triet desert.

"You travel often?" Leneth asked as he walked.

Beside him Alain shrugged. "No, not really. The farthest I've ever gone was into the woods to train with you and Liath--" he stopped walking.

Leneth immediately recognized what Alain was doing--monsters were afoot.

Where he didn't have to ask--a high-pitched whooshing noise was heard, and Leneth leapt back out of the giant bird's way. He withdrew a throwing knife and with a flick of his wrist let it fly--the giant hawk cried out, wings flailing as it shook its head--the knife buried itself in its face, a mere inch from its eye, Leneth's intended target.

Alain drew his sword and made for the monster, but it leapt out of his reach, taking to the skies again, perhaps preparing for another dive. Cursing under his breath, Alain quickly as he could put his bow together, nocking an arrow to the bowstring.

The bird, having been attacked first by Leneth, dove for the Mizuhon, its dark talons catching the sunlight in an ominous way. Leneth leapt backwards to avoid the attack. The bird didn't fly up again; instead it deigned to hop across the ground toward its target. Leneth danced in and out of its reach, distracting it--and behind the giant bird Alain loosed an arrow.

"Thunder Blitz!"

The electric arrow pierced the bird's shoulder--it squawked in pain, jolting from the bouts of electricity. Leneth drew the short sword Dirk had forged for him--it was lightweight, easy to wield--and ran the bird through. The monster gurgled pathetically, ceasing to move. Leneth sighed, yanking his blade free. Black monster blood dripped in gouts on the ground.

"One disaster averted," Alain said cheerfully, handing Leneth a cloth to wipe the blood from his blade. "Now we have to leave ASAP if we don't want to deal with the scavengers. You handled yourself well, Leneth."

Leneth scowled at Alain as he wiped the worst of the blood of his sword, sheathing it when it was clean.

"Are you suggesting a shinobi can't handle himself in combat?"

Alain shook his head, smiling good naturedly. "No, but it was your first time in real combat, a real life-or-death situation. Am I wrong to compliment you?"

Leneth's face burned in mortification as he blushed. "... No. Thanks."

"Good."

Monster encounters from then on were a little more scarce, but the kinds of enemies they fought were diverse--a small pack of wolves one time (Alain had trouble believing Leneth's Mizuhon agility), a few snakes (good thing they had antidotes), and even a group of bandits (there was no real need to kill them, so Alain and Leneth merely knocked them out and broke their weapons).

Just as Alain predicted, by nightfall they reached the desert.

But they were by no means close to the city.

Leneth dragged his feet through the sand, the darkness of night turning the golden dunes to a pale purple hue. He patted at his clothing--clouds of dusty sand came loose.

"Man ... so much ... sand! This is because of Efreet's influence, is it?"

Alain had set up a campfire and was setting out their bedrolls.

"Yeah. The extreme heat of Efreet's mana caused this place to change from a grassland to a desert. Word is the desert's expanding over what remaining grassland there is on this continent."

Leneth didn't answer as Alain finished setting up camp, merely stood at the outskirts and stared off into the horizon made uneven by the mountains of sand.

"Hey, Efreet's seal is somewhere in this area?"

Alain quirked an eyebrow as he was preparing their evening meal.

"Yes ..."

"Do you think we could ... take a little detour?"

"No." Alain said flatly, making sandwiches--there was no source of fresh water nearby to boil, and they would serve well enough.

"Oh, come on, why not?" Leneth pleaded, turning to face Alain. "You can't honestly tell me you're uninterested."

Alain handed Leneth his sandwich, "No I can't, but we have to reach Luin as soon as we can to tell my parents and yours about the attack. Besides, there's no guarantee we'll find anything there--my mother told me the seal fell into ruins years ago."

Leneth sat crosslegged by the fire, accepting his food with a thanks. But he was not one so easily deterred.

"You remember what Kratos said--that my mom sensed her links with Tethe'allan Spirits disappearing, an indication that another summoner made pacts with them. What if this summoner intends to make pacts with all the Spirits?"

There was a tense silence for a time as the young men ate.

Alain furrowed his brow--Leneth was indeed onto something.

"All he would need is the pact with Origin for the Eternal Sword ... and all the parts of the sword, as well as the pact ring. But I was told as Origin is one of the most powerful Spirits ever, there is a great deal of preparation in mind and body before a summoner can go make the pact."

Leneth nodded.

"And what better training than to make pacts with all the Spirits the world over?"

Alain glared at Leneth; the boy had brought up a good point and it would be by no means a "detour." It was a valid concern pertaining to the one thing they couldn't let happen--if Tethe'alla had ever gotten its mits on the Eternal Sword, or the means of accession.

Finally, Alain sighed.

"Fine, we'll swing by the ruins tomorrow--after we've visited the city. But we can't stay long; we don't know where Tethe'alla means to strike if it has declared serious war on Sylvarant."

Leneth shrugged, but he was satisfied nonetheless.

Leneth had heard stories about how hot deserts could get--but as he and Alain traveled throughout the Triet Desert on the way to the city, the sun beat down on his back and the sand grated against his skin. They weren't far from the city--it was only a few hours before they reached it, but Leneth was positively exhausted.

Splashing cold water on his face at their room in the inn, Leneth groaned. Alain heard him and laughed.

"If we take no detours, we can get out of this desert fairly quickly, maybe in a day or two."

Alain splashed his face again, enjoying the cool relief. There were tinges of sunburn here and there, but he was mostly all right.

"No," he said adamantly, "we are going to investigate the temple. There's an oasis by it anyhow--we can cool off and come back here."

"All right, all right, cool off," Alain chortled, opening the inn door. "I'm going to get supplies and information. Want to come?"

Leneth looked out the window of the room--their room was on the second floor of the inn and overlooked the city outside. It was midday now and the city positively bustled with activity, the inhabitants blissfully ignorant of the intense heat of the desert. He sighed.

"No, that's all right, I'll take a nap."

Alain nodded in agreement and left. Leneth pulled off his boots and overcoat, settling on one of the two beds. He lay with his legs dangling off the edge, arms folded behind his head. He stared at the ceiling.

"Liath ..." he murmured. Where was his sister now? She should already be on the ferry with Waltharia, Kratos had said their boat left at midday yesterday. He cracked a grin. Liath and Waltharia could wile away their time at sea--the majority of their route was by sea--while Leneth and Alain had to hoof it all the away across a continent and a half.

Leneth had managed to fall into a light sleep for a while before Alain slammed the door open abruptly. Leneth shot upright in his bed, eyes clouded with sleep and half open.

"Wh-what?" Leneth asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. Alain's arms were full of bags, undoubtedly the supplies he'd procured. He packed them in their travel bags as he filled Leneth in on the situation.

"It's the damn Tethe'allan Navy." Alain spat, obviously not in a very good mood, "A fleet of ironclad battleships is on its way to lay seige to Izoold--they want control of its port for trade and use it as a military base."

Leneth's eyes went wide.

"The Latheon base isn't sending ships ... is it?" Dammit, Liath and Waltharia were probably still sailing the Latheon Channel!

Alain shuddered. "I don't want to think about what's going on up north. But the Tethe'allan army shouldn't have a reason to be attacking civilian ferry ships ... as long as they don't know which one has Flamberge."

Leneth gulped the lump down his throat, his hand involuntarily reaching up to touch the hilt of Vorpal, the sword still strapped to his back. Perhaps Liath and Waltharia had the tougher route after all. He was suddenly impacted by the fact they were traveling through Tethe'allan territory, and would be in constant danger until they reached the safety of Heimdall.

"So," Leneth stammered as he grabbed his boots, "how far away from Izoold is the fleet? Is the vanguard there prepared for seige--or battle?"

Alain pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut as if in exasperation. "Think, Leneth. Ironclad battleships, undoubtedly employing some form of magitechnology as well. Those ships against the technologically inferior Sylvarantian vanguard, the best of battleships a huge steamship with magitech cannons and defenses. Any advantage, if at all, would be in manuverability for their lighter weight. But still ... it's only a matter of time."

Leneth gulped down the lump in his throat as he realized what Alain was saying--the vanguard at Izoold wouldn't last long in a full-on assault, and Tethe'alla would have a firm step to set foot on Sylvarant to begin their invasion. If Tethe'alla truly wanted for Sylvarant's natural resources, the land itself was probably in no danger. The cities and people, however ...

"You're saying we should press on to Luin."

Alain nodded, still busy in the task of packing their new supplies in an orderly manner.

Leneth frowned, cupping his chin with a hand.

"But if the Tethe'allan fleet is already well on its way, what if we get caught up in the attack?"

Alain froze, every muscle pulled taut. Leneth didn't stop there.

"If Tethe'allan spies are lying in wait for us there ... wouldn't it be better to wait for a little while and head on in a low profile?"

Alain drummed his fingers rhythmically on the leather pack, considering. To have been appointed by Kratos as Leneth's "protection" as good as made Alain the leader of his journey, and Leneth found it better to persuade instead of force his opinons on him.

"True, rushing onto Luin, even if we avoided any battles or skirmishes would hardly bode well for us. That's like yelling to the Tethe'allans we have what they want."

Alain continued to ponder the matter for a little while before decisively nodding his head.

"Sure, we'll stay here for a little bit, and we can still investigate the ruins, as would be prudent. We must move quickly but carefully and discreetly if we don't want to alert the Tethe'allans."

Leneth couldn't help but smile at this small victory. The mysterious Tethe'allan summoner was a cause for concern, but for any Tethe'allan to have made into Sylvarant during wartime--he stopped. The summoner ... could have been smuggled into Sylvarant before the war officially broke out.

Alain seemed to read Leneth's thoughts about the seal.

"We do need to kill time before moving on," he said slowly, "but even if Efreet is still unbound, how would we guard it against any more pact-makers? It's not as if we could make a pact with it."

Leneth bit down on his lower lip. It was true, of all the training he and Liath had received in New Mizuho, the art of summoning was not something they'd been taught. Presumably their mother thought it unneeded, at least for them, if she intended for them not to become entangled in the great intrigues of the world.

But entangled they have become.

"If only we knew who the summoner was," Leneth muttered.

At that Alain gave him an odd expression, an iron glint in his eye. Leneth quirked a brow at him.

"We ... could find out who the summoner is. Attempt to, anyway."

"How do you mean?" Leneth asked as Alain finished packing.

Alain didn't answer immediately, strapping on his weapons. Leneth made to do the same, grabbing the throwing knives and short sword Dirk had forged for him.

"It's a magick that I was afraid I'd never get to use." Alain explained. "It was part of my mother's training. Called angel's sight, if I recall rightly. Certain natrual mediums might be used to seek visions of people and things and places familiar to its user."

Leneth stared curiously at Alain, unable to help his question.

"Natural mediums ...? What are those?"

Alain cast a look about the room as if to make sure they would forget nothing, and turned toward the door. Leneth stood to follow, grabbing his travel pack.

"We can't use them in this room. Let's go."

Alain explained as they walked through the city's streets. It was hot, but Leneth bit back his complaints. If he were complaining about his own comfort when so much more was at stake in this war, his parents would be ashamed.

These "natrual mediums" to see visions through were many things, most commonly used ones (and most commonly available) being fires and certain bodies of water. Alain said he'd heard tell of practiced mages seeing through things such as obsidian, a kind of dark stone, but these tales were nothing more than word of mouth.

It would be strange for someone to make a fire in the middle of a desert city during the day, so Leneth had a feeling he knew which medium Alain would use for their purpose. And he had guessed rightly when they came free of a throng of people down one street to come out at the oasis, the precious source of water for Triet.

"It's a lot like meditating, actually," Alain said as he sat the water's edge by a fortune teller's tent. Leneth sat beside him.

Alain took a deep breath. "You relax, clear your mind. Focused like this, you can sense and manipulate mana more astutely."

Alain stared deeply at the water, but Leneth saw nothing, only their reflections, undisturbed by the almost solid surface of water. Leneth did not have training in this aspect, nor was he even a mage--he didn't know enough of manipulating mana beyond using them for his seals as his mother would.

Nonetheless he watched Alain. It was a very strange thing, Alain was so focused on his intent that he didn't seem to notice Leneth--not even when Leneth waved a hand before his face or gently prodded his shoulder with a hand. Before long Leneth learned not to disturb Alain; doing so would serve nothing for their purpose.

Alain sat staring at the oasis water for a very long time, so entranced was he. Leneth, too, stared into the water, but he could not see anything but the reflections, the slight ripples on the surface made by the rare breeze, and perhaps the shadow of fish darting underneath.

Alain shuddered and Leneth snapped his gaze to look at his friend. Alain blinked multiple times and Leneth realized he was coming back to earth.

"Wh--who was that ...?" Alain murmured.

"Alain?" Leneth asked, and Alain snapped out of it.

"Th-the summoner." Alain said somewhat distractedly, "He's already ... in Sylvarant boundaries."

"Where?" Leneth demanded before he could stop himself. He could not use angel's sight, better to squeeze the information out of someone who did.

Alain shook his head as if to clear it. "He was ... on the fleet of Tethe'allan ships heading to Izoold."

Leneth at once brightened.

"Then that means Efreet is safe, for now. What Spirits are near Izoold?"

Alain considered.

"None," he said finally. "Efreet's here in Triet, close to Izoold as a day or three on a hard march, Undine's island--also in ruins-- is a a ways off Palmacosta, Slyph's temple is northwest of Asgard, and Aska and Luna's altar is still in the ruined Tower of Mana, close to Luin."

"So," Alain continued, "the summoner's current destination is Izoold. Either he knows that we were in Iselia, or he's really intent on making a pact with Efreet."

It was Leneth's turn to smirk, and Alain frowned at the gesture.

"Luin is our top priority, Leneth." He said in a warning tone.

"I know," Leneth replied, "in fact, now we'll be making better time, as we don't need to head off to the seal. All we have to do when we pass by Izoold is to ... make things a little bit difficult for the Tethe'allans there."

"Antagonizing the Tethe'allan military?" Alain balked. "That's passing precarious for our anonymity."

Leneth partially ignored him, already brewing up plots and schemes. For a summoner to be breaking his mother's links with the Spirits, that was quite a personal hang-up. Although he'd never seen his mother summon, he'd always regarded the Spirits as attached to his mother, and imagining anybody else summoning them left a bad taste in his mouth.

"Did you find out his name?" Leneth asked.

Alain's frown was more prominent at this question. "Yes ... it's not a very pleasant one, either. In an ancient language it means 'cold.' "

"Well, what is it?" asked Leneth, almost impatiently.

"He calls himself Frio. Frio L. Kestrel."


	5. Weight of the War

Hikaru: School has started, and I will write as I have had for Glow of the Teriques--with a synopsis already in place and such, I will update at the end of each week, no later than two if the chapter or school gives me a little difficulty.

--

It was with a sense of purpose that Leneth and Alain headed out into the Triet Desert again, a purpose that went beyond simply reaching the city of Luin in good time. They knew Tethe'alla's goals for the war, and the means of stopping at least one of those many goals was right at their doorstep.

As they traveled throughout the desert, Alain noticed that Leneth was awfully withdrawn. In all his years of knowing Leneth, Alain knew that it was unlike Leneth to keep to himself; usually he and Liath would interact with people at every available opportunity. But a lot had happened since that training day in the Iselia Woods--for the first time Leneth was allowed outside the village, he was separated from his family, and he shouldered quite a heavy burden as war loomed on the horizon.

Leneth had said to Alain before that he knew very little about his parents' history and he would make it his goal to find out about their lives, no matter how long it took. As deeply entangled in the web of world's intrigue Alain knew his parents were, undoubtedly Leneth and Liath's parents had spectacular pasts, certainly not ... ordinary.

Alain had tried asking his parents before what their lives had been like prior to their settlement of Iselia. He knew his mother had lived in Iselia all her life and some point or another journeyed the rest of the world with Leneth's parents and other people, Waltharia's mage teacher one of them. His father merely chuckled and said that Alain wouldn't believe how he lived before if he told him.

But now that Kratos had suddenly revealed the secret of the world's most powerful weapon, Alain had a feeling that their parents would no longer be able to freely keep them blissfully ignorant, no matter how much they wished to.

As Leneth surely had concerns of his own that he would not voice, so Alain did as well. When he had searched in the water a day and a half prior for the Tethe'allan summoner, it seemed as if ... the summoner, Frio, had known he was being searched for. In fact, he seemed to look up from the deck of the ironclad ship he was traveling on, at the sky it had appeared, but to Alain it felt as if Frio were looking directly at him.

"Who are you?" Frio had asked, a mischievous smirk placed on his lips. "Who seeks the summoner Frio L. Kestrel of Tethe'alla?"

He had seemed ... amused, at the very least. He had known that someone had sought him, sought his name, country of origin, and purpose. And he had deliberately answered, all the while smirking.

Alain pondered this as he and Leneth trudged through the impossible sea of sand, due northwest to the Ossa Trail. It would be at least another day or two until the trail, and then a few days more before they got out of the pass. Then it would be on to Izoold ... or past it, depending on the situation there.

The vanguard all over Sylvarant was nothing to sneeze at, but it wasn't to be overestimated, either.

Frio ... he looked ... somewhat familiar. He had short silver hair, blue eyes ... the way he carried himself, his demeanor--and then it hit him. Frio reminded Alain rather forcefully of the man called Genis Sage, Waltharia's teacher in all things related to mana and magick. Were they of blood relation? Or was Alain merely imagining things?

Still, it was hard to get the idea out of his head. Frio looked to be the sort of person who took care only of his own interests and then some, easygoing but certainly not carefree. Cool, almost. He was nothing like the gentle but firm teacher Alain and Waltharia had known in their childhood.

Genis Sage had visited Iselia often when he taught Waltharia the workings of magick. As Withi and her understanding of magick and her abilities to manipulate it grew, Genis visited less and less. He had an ... older sister, Alain thought. Yes, but Raine Sage, a healer, had visited even less often than her brother did. She was a restless researcher with a kind and no-nonsense demeanor, at least she was the last time Alain saw her, and he was still a small child at the time.

Leneth suddenly stopped mid-step. Alain nearly bumped into him but managed not to. It was noon, the sun at its highest peak. Needless to say, the heat was quite stifling.

"What if ... Izoold is under Tethe'allan control by the time we get there?"

Alain almost gaped, and the heat was doing nothing to help his temper.

"You weren't this hesitant back at the city! You were quite insistent on even antagonizing the Tethe'allans when we got there."

"Yeah, but ... now that we're going to the actual place, it's a little unnerving."

Alain nodded, Leneth was right in that regard. Talking about something and then actually facing it were two different matters entirely.

"I'm not doubting it." Leneth said suddenly. "I know we have to go there ... the summoner's going there, too, and we have to keep him away from the Spirits. Who knows where he'll be once we finally reach Luin? Even if you use angel's sight, there's no guaranteeing anything."

Alain narrowed his eyes as he looked to the horizon--still desert, desert, and more desert up ahead. And if they didn't start moving again soon, they'd be stuck in the desert for at least half a day longer than they had to be.

"If Izoold is taken by the time we get there," Alain said carefully, "it's most likely by sea, not land. It would take a few more days for the vanguard at Izoold to fully surrender to Tethe'alla, and that's after they claim the waters around it. As long as we can get past it before they actually land, we should be in the clear."

Leneth grimaced.

"But then we'd have a dagger behind us."

Alain sighed as he started walking again, and to his relief it didn't take Leneth long to follow. War was war, there was no changing that, and there was little two lone teenagers could do on their own. It was especially hard to recognize that they really could do nothing anyway; one of their biggest goals emphasized not getting caught by Tethe'allan forces. Not when another part of the Eternal Sword lay so close within Tethe'alla's reach.

The most concentrated parts of Sylvarant's army--vanguard, more like--were in Luin and Palmacosta, the most developed cities in Sylvarant. Luin, while built on the water, had the most ground forces, and Palmacosta carried the majority of the Sylvarantian Navy, although they were little nothings compared to Tethe'alla's ironclad magitech ships. In the other cities of Sylvarant, the vanguards strengthened the militias, and Alain knew from personal experience how tough they could be.

Iselia's vanguard and militia were, anyway.

Night fell, and they made camp. All the while Alain stressed about the situation at Izoold, and about the summoner. While everything wouldn't necessarily be lost if Frio L. Kestrel managed the pact with Origin, it would be a mighty blow, and make guarding the Eternal Sword all the more important.

Meanwhile, there were more ... immediate concerns. How did Sylvarant plan on winning the war, even if the Eternal Sword were kept out of reach? Tethe'alla was the technological superpower; it would be only a matter of time before Sylvarant would be completely overtaken. Who would protect the Sword then? The elves? But the elves were few and humans, Tethe'allans particularly, many.

Alain heaved a sigh, shifting in his bedroll. Sylvarant was in very deep trouble if this wore on.

Alain himself had said there was nothing they could do about Izoold, even admitted that Tethe'alla winning there was a likelihood, no, a probability. Once Tethe'alla landed their forces there, they had two choices: invade the desert to the west, or head on to the prize of Sylvarant's capital in the north. It was unlikely they would squander their forces by sending half in each direction, if anything Tethe'alla did its deeds systematically, and however long it would take, more troops would be brought in from Tethe'alla's bases.

The thought made Alain's stomach squirm. Systematically Tethe'alla would conquer Sylvarant. If the Latheon forces weren't already massing, eventually they would invade Iselia and push southward, into the desert. Thus, leaving the Izoold forces to push ahead to the capital.

Two birds with one stone. Overwhelm Sylvarant, and easily win the war when the capital was taken.

Easily won.

Alain pounded his forehead with a closed fist, trying to think.

Was this inevitable? The entire time he was growing up, ignorant of the giant right on his doorstep? Had Sylvarant instigated the war during his childhood, or had Tethe'alla only bided its time, waited until the time was right to attack?

He thought.

Tethe'alla's previous king, Queen Hilda's father, had been a sickly man, hardly fit to lead--and win--a war of such scale. Whereas the current king, King Hugh, the king consort of the old king's daughter, was young, vibrant and held in his hands great power. From what Alain had heard about Tethe'alla, it seemed the young king was no fool when it came to ruling--or war.

Sylvarant had been divided during Alain's lifetime, of that he was sure. His parents talked about it often, formally uniting the cities of Sylvarant into one country. This war where great power was not on their side, would truly test the unity of the people of Sylvarant.

But no matter what scenarios Alain envision, no matter how the Luin Council would pull Sylvarant together to fight back, all Alain saw was a dark, turbulent future in Tethe'alla's all encompassing shadow.

Alain's mood improved little, if at all, during the next few days. He was irritable and jittery, jumping at shadows. The intense heat of the desert helped nothing, either.

So early in their journey, and already so severe a change.

Leneth had not thought so far in the future, however. Unlike Alain, he was fretting over what could be done to help the war effort now and still keep their current goals. He knew that any help at all would be most welcome if Tethe'alla truly was as powerful as Alain made it sound.

It was late afternoon by the time they made it to the beginnings of the Ossa Trail. It was deceptively quiet and even though they were only a few hours out of the desert, they already felt a massive change in the climate.

"Finally I can breathe!" Leneth said when they stopped at a stream to rest.

Alain didn't answer as he splashed his face and wet his hair with the cool water. His face was set in a grim countenance. He stared at the rippling water, mentally debating whether or not to search again for the summoner and check on Izoold, or to seek out his sister. No, he decided. Checking on Waltharia and Liath would only draw attention to them, of that he was sure. If Frio had somehow known he watched from so far with angel's sight, perhaps Tethe'alla had such means to track the presence of magickal activities.

If he had to look for something through the water, he might as well watch Frio again.

Alain sighed as he meditated, clearing all worry and concern from his mind. He felt his facial muscles relax, and the tension left his body in an orderly, gradual manner until he thought himself focused enough to see.

Within the water, they looked to be only shadows first, flickering and fleeting, but he held his focus and the shadows were clearer.

Izoold was well within sight of the Tethe'allan fleet, but they no longer approached. They had anchored at a respectful distance, and Alain at once saw why: the vanguard of Izoold had their ships deployed in the bay, and the ground forces were assembled. The battleship Frio was riding was at the forefront of the fleet--the flagship.

Frio looked up again, as he had before, as if sensing Alain watching him.

"Worried for Izoold?" the summoner asked in mock concern, a terrible grin upon his face. Alain's mouth ran dry. "We won't completely obliterate them ... assuming they don't resist when our admiral asks for their peaceful surrender."

Alain's frown deepened. If he could hear the summoner from this end ... could the summoner hear him? He was a summoner, after all, well honed in the ways of channeling mana.

Alain chose to try, and the thought of confusing poor Leneth never even crossed his mind.

"What is your objective, exactly?" Alain murmured.

On the deck of the Tethe'allan ironclad flagship, Frio laughed, although quietly so as not to draw attention to himself.

"Mine? Or Tethe'alla's?"

Alain felt his stomach fall into queasy hell. Frio or Tethe'alla's objective? As in separately, not one and the same?

The prospect was almost as scary as the thought of Old Mizuho acting on its own in regards to attacking New Mizuho.

"You have ambitions of your own?" Alain demanded, and didn't notice the bewildered look Leneth gave him.

On the ship, Frio shrugged.

"Tethe'alla itself wants only to win this war. The people of Tethe'alla despise you Sylvarantians. But there is gain to be had in Sylvarant--your rural ways left many natural resources available for use, and Tethe'alla with its heavy industrialization can use them effectively."

Alain set his mouth in a thin line. It was just as Kratos said: Tethe'alla wanted Sylvarant's natural resources to fuel its industrialized economy.

"You couldn't just ask nicely?" Alain muttered bitterly.

Frio laughed more loudly this time, attracting curious glances his way from the deckhands.

"As if Sylvarant would have easily offered trade with Tethe'alla. Sylvarant may be divided, but it is not run by fools. They would know Tethe'alla wanted what it had, and would have bargained so that they profit and we wouldn't. But Tethe'alla will have Sylvarant and more."

Frio was that confident in Tethe'alla's ability to win the war. Alain didn't doubt it either.

"What are you after, Frio?"

Frio drummed his fingers rhythmically on the deck railing of the battleship. He looked on as a lifeboat was sent from the flagship to the Izoold vanguard's front line of ships. Alain knew what this was: the messengers that would ask the Izoold fleet's flagship for a peaceful surrender.

"For the record," Frio said airily, "only the king and I know of what you Sylvarantians are guarding so jealously."

"Wait!" Alain said breathlessly; he sensed Frio pushing him away, forcibly severing their connection. "What pacts with which Spirits have you made! Frio!"

But it was too late--Alain was physically thrown back from the small riverbank, landing on his back.

Alain blinked, dizzy. The sky above was tinted pink and orange and gold--sunset. How long had he been entranced in the vision?

He saw Leneth hovering over him, and he looked angry.

"What the hell was that?" Leneth demanded as he helped Alain to sit upright.

Alain made his way to the stream again, splashing his face with water. It helped calm him.

"I saw Frio again. It seems the fleet's already met with the Izoold vanguard."

Leneth blanched quite visibly; they were on Izoold's doorstep.

"I don't hear any cannon fire," he offered somewhat lamely.

Alain shook his head.

"Battle hasn't started yet. Last I saw, the admiral of the fleet sent a boat of messengers to the Izoold flagship asking for a peaceful surrender."

And Alain had a gut feeling that the Izoold fleet and vanguard wouldn't back down so easily in the face of the obviously more powerful Tethe'allan fleet. Ironclad magitech battleships! Outnumbered and outgunned! Alain drew in a deep breath.

"Could we stop it?!" Leneth blurted out.

Alain stared at Leneth incredulously before he remembered that Leneth couldn't use the angel's sight. He had not seen what Alain had.

"I don't think we'll even get there in time to stop the battle. In the case that the ships are battling when we pass through, it'd be better to just ... move on."

Leneth gritted his teeth, fists clenched at his sides.

"What about ... that summoner? Frio?" he ground out. "Couldn't we, I dunno, put him out of action?"

Alain glared, jaw set. "No. Frio is on the flagship of the fleet attacking Izoold. There's no way we could go after him without getting caught, and there's a good chance Frio might even be hoping to lure us in a trap. Better to move on quickly."

"Alain!" Leneth protested, but Alain cut him off.

"War is war, Leneth! I don't know about you, but I for one have enough sense about me to know the difference between what we want to do, and what we _need _to do. And right now, the need is more paramount."

Leneth clamped his mouth shut, fists clenched and shaking at his sides.

Alain had not readily believed it; Leneth _was _a ninja trained in New Mizuho, but … he had heard it often said from his parents that Leneth was very much like his father. Perfect morals and sense of justice, with virtually no wit about him to give thought to the immediate consequences of his actions, no matter how noble they were.

Liath, on the other hand, was more like her grandfather, Kratos. Had that been why Kratos had deigned to send her into the more dangerous path, leaving Leneth under Alain's eye? That certainly seemed like it.

But thinking of Liath made Alain think of Waltharia, and that made him uneasy at the least. Like their mother, Waltharia had a kind heart and a wish to be all the help she could be, but like Leneth, would be dangerous if she acted on her own. Good thing Liath was there to keep her safe.

Alain turned away from Leneth, beginning to set up camp; at sunset it was too late to continue traveling, and the mountain paths were dangerous at night. But it seemed Leneth had also inherited his father's hell-bent innate stubbornness.

"Are you saying we should condemn Izoold to Tethe'alla?"

Alain pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to dig up his beaten and worn patience.

"Lenethano," he said sternly, "I will not have his conversation over and over if you in your heart doubt my intentions."

Leneth had fallen into hellish silence after that. It was a relief, but also a worry—it was not in Leneth's nature to clam up.

But as Alain finished setting up camp and the nighttime darkness fell over, all he could think of was the summoner Frio, and that malicious smirk of his.


	6. Rise From Obscurity

Hikaru: Have any of you noticed anything … familiar about Frio's initials?

--

"I don't see a need to."

"You're being selfish! Now that your goal is accomplished, it's fine for you to just sit back and watch the world you helped go up in flames?"

"Yes, perhaps it is selfish. But now that the world is in its original form and the Giant Tree thriving, I don't see a need to help those miserable creatures. It's their nature to burn in the flames they themselves set."

" … I know you cannot mean that, Yuan."

Yuan glared at Kratos, an unwelcome visitor in his midst. He had been rather enjoying this new life of solitude with Martel in spirit, if not in the flesh. He had no more worries, no longer was he entangled in the great web of the world's intrigues. As far as he was concerned, he was dead to the world.

And now Kratos, who after four thousand plus years, still had in him the human nature that was harder to kill than a cockroach. He was still attached greatly to the world, still human in nearly every aspect.

Yuan tapped his fingers rhythmically on the polished wooden table, stealing a glance out the window. In the distant clearing ahead stood the Giant Tree, thriving quite nicely, although it would be at least a few centuries before it would attain its greatest heights.

"But I do, Kratos." Yuan replied, raking a hand through his aqua blue hair. "I'm very tired. I've been fighting against impossible odds for four thousand years constantly, and now I need to fight no more. I just want to be with Martel in peace."

Kratos, in a rare flash of anger, pounded a fist on the table, making Yuan jump slightly.

"Martel is dead."

Yuan leapt to his feet, slapping a hand on the table in the same angry manner Kratos had.

"I don't need you to tell me that!" He yelled, fingers curling into fists.

"Then is this how you honor her memory?" Kratos pressed. "Is this how you honor her sacrifice? She's suffered all this time, four thousand years of constant pain, and it was her own brother that had done so much wrong! She had suffered more than any of us had, and yet you refuse to allow her to rest in peace!"

Yuan's eyes were wide. Kratos's words were sharp as the sword he carried, and those words just now cut him deep, to the core.

"You have no right to tell me how to honor the woman I love!" Yuan screamed back, clenching the hand on which he wore his engagement ring.

Here Kratos donned a coy smile.

"And yet you had no problem telling me how I changed once I got a family."

Yuan averted his gaze, brow furrowed, teeth grit together.

"At least you had the opportunity," he muttered heatedly. Unlike Yuan, Kratos had been able to form a family with the woman he loved. They'd had a son. And now he was a grandfather! It was almost insulting.

Kratos took a step toward Yuan, his voice softening and becoming more gentle, the kind of fatherly tone he would use when speaking to Lloyd.

"Martel is still alive in some way. She can see, can feel the world and its goings-on. Even now she may still be suffering. Think: would Martel want you to stay holed up in this little shack of a home while the pillars supporting the world collapse around you?"

Yuan wanted at that moment to scream at Kratos to get the hell out and leave him alone, that Kratos seemed to have no problem playing protector of the world, so why won't he run off and save it again? It seemed this world needed constant saving.

" … She would want me to get out there and put a stop to it." He said finally, knowing full well that Kratos would know this as well. Kratos had been somewhat of a loner, keeping mostly to himself as the only human among a group of half-elves, but he still knew each and every one of them well.

Too well.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kratos's mouth.

Yuan sighed, rubbing his temple as if trying to assuage an oncoming headache.

"It won't be easy. Mithos destroyed the Renegades through Nemesis and its sub-divisions. I am now alone, one man. I cannot do everything …"

Yuan caught Kratos's gaze—he looked ready to start exchanging blows over this if he didn't hear from Yuan what he wanted to. Yeesh, humans were so hotheaded and irrational.

"… but still I can do something."

This time Kratos did not suppress his wide smile, the smile that Yuan remembered when they had first met when Kratos was but a young teenager, no older than Lloyd had been at the start of their journey.

"That's the spirit," Kratos laughed, clapping Yuan on the shoulder. "That sounds like the Yuan I remember."

Yuan gave an irritated growl.

"You're more like your son than you let on, you know that?"

At this Kratos laughed again, giving Yuan a playful punch on the arm.

"Then perhaps you can guess why I don't let it on."

Yuan stared out his window, at the Giant Tree. He wished the guardian Spirit would appear so that he might at least attempt to speak with Martel's soul in the mesh of life force that manifested within Tabatha. But the Spirit never appeared now, ever since Mithos had tried to capture it.

And that had been over seventeen years ago.

But Yuan knew this was the right thing to do, Martel's wish or not.

"What would you have me do, Kratos?" Yuan asked, turning to face him again. "The Renegades are gone; I have no troops at my disposal. I can't exactly distract Tethe'alla's troops away from your grandchildren and by extension the Eternal Sword. And from what I heard about the new king, no one can dissuade him from the warpath."

Kratos cupped his chin in a hand thoughtfully.

"True. Not even the Queen—but I won't lie, Queen Hilda doesn't exactly have the head of a true ruler on her shoulders. She still adores Zelos … but if Zelos tried to ask her to talk to the king about stopping the war, he'd know something's up. Zelos is known as a Sylvarantian sympathizer of sorts."

But Yuan had an idea. His face cracked into a mischievous grin.

"… I know a way."

Kratos quirked an eyebrow, lips parted as if he were going to ask … but was in actuality afraid to ask.

Yuan paced around the room, arms folded, still smiling.

"If the king were to … disappear for a while … but still gave orders for the war to stop …"

Kratos froze, seeming to at last know what Yuan was getting at.

"You're saying we need Raine."

Yuan's grin grew broader.

"Not Raine, per se, but rather the company she's keeping. Do you know where she's been of late?"

Here Kratos's face fell.

"No. Raine visited us little in New Mizuho, and even less in Iselia. What about Genis? He lives near here, right, to study mana?"

Yuan groaned.

"He's at the Palmacosta Academy, teaching there as a professor. The research he's obtained about mana is very valuable, so he's staying there for a while. And with this war, it's more than likely that the Sylvarantian Council will seek to use Genis or at least his research to counter Tethe'alla's magitech weaponry or buff up their own."

Kratos shook his head.

"Lloyd, Sheena, Colette, and Noishe are part of the Council. There's no way they'd let Genis be exploited like that."

Here Yuan gave him a curious sidelong glance.

"But in these extreme situations, is it better to be good or useful?"

Kratos didn't answer.

"Anyway," Yuan continued, "Genis is the only one who knows where Raine is, so we'll need to make a trip to Palmacosta."

"Actually," Kratos said, garnering Yuan's attention, "unless you wish to accompany me, I have to make a trip to Old Mizuho first. One of theirs made an act of aggression against New Mizuho, and I have to find out if it was of their own or the whole of Tethe'alla's accord."

Yuan quirked a brow. "Really?" He murmured. That sounded very interesting—the elder clan challenging the younger and more radical.

"Could it be under Kuchinawa's orders? Could the Old Mizuho Chief be still feeling resentment toward Sheena?"

Kratos frowned prominently at Yuan's suggestion. "That's what I aim to find out. Will you come with me or go see Genis about Raine?"

Yuan considered for a time before finally deciding.

"No, I'll go to Palmacosta. As father of one of New Mizuho's leaders, chances are they'll let only you in their village. Besides, it'd be faster this way."

"All right," Kratos made his way to the door, calling over his shoulder, "Where do you want to rendezvous?"

"Hmm … how about the Council in Luin?"

Kratos grinned halfheartedly.

"A fitting location."


	7. Battle of Izoold

Hikaru: Argh … I got new wires for my braces … so now my teeth ache …

--

Leneth had been doing a lot of thinking lately as he and Alain neared Izoold by way of the Ossa Trail. Sheltered little shinobi he was, Leneth still couldn't fully comprehend the impact of this war, or the severity of their mission. It was just too hard, the most he'd had to deal with before now was training in the village and a few monster fights of late.

He'd learned quickly that actual battles never went as well as training did, and Alain had been covering for him every time Leneth had slipped up, and much to Leneth's dismay, was often, too often for a person raised in New Mizuho.

He wouldn't admit it in front of Alain (who, as a co-leader alongside his father of the Iselia militia, had seen many real battles and come through nearly unscathed), but Leneth was apprehensive of passing through the battle zone if battle were joined by the time they reached Izoold, or if they were forced to fight something—anything, really—here in the Ossa Trail.

They were descending down the trail now, but the footing was still poor—loose rocks littered the path with the occasional tree root jutting out of the side of the steep hill. Luckily they hadn't had to fight anything yet, but as Kratos used to tell Leneth and Liath: "expect the unexpected."

Leneth found he wasn't very good at expecting the unexpected; the attack on New Mizuho was a prime example of that.

Leneth's heart pounded in his chest as he and Alain emerged from the mountainous terrain of the Ossa Trail, the rocky landscape giving way to a series of rolling green hills crowned by the magnificent blue seas on the horizon. Even so far away Leneth could spot the grouping of buildings that was Izoold on the coast.

He couldn't see any ships on the ocean now, but if they ventured closer they probably would be able to.

"It's quiet," Alain whispered, surveying the horizon.

Leneth nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. That it was so quiet meant that battle on the waters had not started yet—and there was no way right now for them to see how long it would last.

Alain shielded his eyes from the sun as he looked about; there were clumps of forest around the foot of the hills, but he could still see the land bridge from here. That bridge was the only way they could reach Luin, and if they were caught here …

"Yeah," Alain said, "we'll have to hug these hills here and swiftly but steadily make our way to the land bridge. If battle is joined, it'll be on the water. We should stay away from the ocean, if a shell from one of those magitech ships hits us, we're goners."

Leneth nodded again resolutely. Alain gave him a look.

"Are you all right?" he asked. "I mean, if it's about what I said yesterday—"

Leneth cut him off.

"You don't have to apologize. You're right, we can't afford to get caught no matter what the reason. If Tethe'alla's ships are that much better than ours, then … Izoold probably wouldn't last long even if we helped … "

Whatever help two lone teenagers could give.

Alain worked his jaw but couldn't think of anything else to say—he'd noticed the look in Leneth's eye as he had spoken … he'd never seen Leneth look like that before.

They set off at a swift half-jog—if they were seen outright fleeing the potential war zone, there was no guarantee the locals would let them go freely. After all, Izoold had no opportunities to warn any other Sylvarant locations of the oncoming fleet, so no one else in Sylvarant was supposed to know of the attack, and Leneth and Alain certainly were not native inhabitants of Izoold.

They'd know something was up.

They'd made a good distance from the exit of the Ossa Trail when the first shell hit.

The earth gave a mighty shudder and a deafening roar ripped across the land; Leneth and Alain lost their footing and fell to the ground.

Leneth blinked, his ears ringing, his vision swimming. He felt his arm being pulled at; Alain was shouting something but he couldn't quite tell what it was. Leneth was yanked to his feet and he was steered to look at the village of Izoold.

Part of the port was up in flames.

"By the Spirits," Leneth whispered.

"Not just that," Alain said, pointing a little further down the coast, "Look!"

A battleship had moved from the main fleet down the coast, after a while it anchored. Lifeboats sailed from their mother ship, berthed on the beaches. Ground armed forces massed on the beach and charged toward Izoold.

Leneth shielded his eyes from a great blast of light as Tethe'allan battleships fired the next round of magitech cannon fire. The ground shuddered beneath their feet, but they managed not to fall.

"From the sea and the land." Leneth muttered, "those bastards!"

"We'll get caught up in their invasion if we don't go now." Alain urged, already beginning to head off again toward the land bridge.

Leneth followed without question—he wanted to do something to help, but in the face of this invasion … it looked like nothing he could combat even if he were with the vanguard.

As he and Alain fled for their lives across the rolling grassland overshadowed by impending doom, Leneth found himself thinking—he knew his parents and Kratos had been involved in battles of a sort, if not a downright war of some kind. Had they felt this hopeless terror Leneth felt now? Had they run or stayed?

All Leneth knew was that he was absolutely terrified and wanted nothing more than to get out of here as soon as possible.

Leneth stumbled as the earth resonated powerfully with another shower of cannon fire from Tethe'alla's magitech battleships but he managed to regain his footing in due time, breath coming in short gasps as he ran.

Alain wasn't doing much better—in fact, he probably had it worse than Leneth, seeing how he hadn't the kind of endurance a Mizuhon would be trained to have—though Leneth was starting to admit his endurance wouldn't last much longer—and he carried extra gear, what with his bow and quiver of arrows in addition to his short sword.

A shadow hovered over them.

"Watch out!" Leneth shouted, tackling Alain to the ground.

Hot breath seared his neck and Leneth instinctively threw his arms over his head---he looked up when it had passed—and his jaw dropped.

_Dragons._

A whole squadron of dragons, and by the looks of their riders and the standard attached to their harnesses, they were a part of the Tethe'allan army.

Leneth grabbed Alain and helped him to his feet. Alain gaped as he fumbled for his bow.

"How in the hell did Tethe'alla get dragons?' Leneth screeched as he flailed his arms—he had no ranged weapons that would work effectively against dragons, let alone trained military dragons in flight.

Alain strung his bow, nocking it with an arrow. Pulling the string taut, he aimed as the squadron—numbering five in all—made a long arc in the sky and turned back toward their designated prey.

"Dragons are notoriously hard to tame and train for battle without harming their handlers and allies," Alain explained as his target—the flight lead in the center—began to swoop lower toward the ground, "so these are the very best Tethe'alla has to offer—they're usually used for reconnaissance operations or as an extra arm in wearing down the enemy."

Or else to reach an otherwise unattainable target.

Alain knew his mistake then—he should never have sought out Frio in the first place. Because of angel's sight, Frio had now known Alain's mana signature trail, and from what he said the day before, he knew they carried a fragment of the Eternal Sword.

"Duck!" Alain shouted to Leneth as he let his arrow fly.

Leneth threw himself to the ground, hands over his head.

Alain ducked on his knees, eyes still fixed on the dragons. They swooped over, one by one, all trying to snip or breathe fire at them but missing in succession each time.

Alain stood up straight again, and noticed that his arrow hadn't quite hit his mark—he was aiming for the lead dragon's eye—but it was enough to irritate the lead dragon into disorienting its formation. Its handler was trying amidst huge beating wings to regain control of his mount, but the dragon swerved and the rider fell to the ground.

Leneth winced as the rider landed with a rather audible _crunch _of bones and armor.

But even with the death of their flight lead, the other riders of the squadron would not be so easily deterred. They regrouped quickly, leaving the rider-less lead dragon to meander about the skies on its own.

Alain frowned, nocked multiple arrows to his bow. He gathered mana from around him, incorporated them into his arrows, just as he had in preparation for the strike arte he had used on Leneth during that training day. It felt like a lifetime ago.

Alain unleashed the first arrow, an Ice Fang that glittered in the sunlight as it buried itself between the scales of one of the flanking dragons. The dragon roared, sparks of flame spewing from its jaws; the arrow broke off in its neck. The rider cursed, steering his dragon—but to no avail. Both dragon and rider crashed on the grasslands not three body's lengths away.

Leneth had screamed when the dragon and rider had hit the ground. From that height and the sickeningly loud crunch of bones and the screams of the rider, at least the rider must be dead.

Alain couldn't concentrate on Leneth; he had three more riders to worry about. He doubted he could keep up this pace for long before the riders lost patience with him and decided to outright dive bomb them or some other such thing.

The next designated flight lead seemed to have a much more apt head on his shoulders than his two comrades had. He hand-signaled to his remaining two comrades, and they dispersed.

Alain's jaw dropped; the dragons had split three ways and were all at once converging on him and Leneth in a steep dive at lunatic speeds. The flew into the sun so as not to be seen by their prey down below, and Alain heard the whooshing of the wind against the dragons' wings as they dived.

Flame sparked at the dragons' mouths.

"Oh, dammit, dammit, dammit!" Alain bit down on his lip, his grip on his bow shaky; he could barely keep his arrow nocked.

Leneth plunged a hand into his item bag, withdrawing a closed fist. He put his fist to his mouth, clenched something between his teeth, tore his fist from it, and dashed up to Alain.

Leneth threw it as the first rider came swooping down low enough.

Once more Alain found himself thrown to the ground by Leneth; he sensed an explosion of mana and heard the rider howling with agonizing pain.

Leneth leapt to his feet, grabbed another of the hand grenades.

"What the hell was that?" Alain yelled as Leneth watched the remaining riders abruptly stop diving. The dragons beat their wings and gained altitude, flying close together—the riders looked to be consulting one another on what to do next.

Leneth opened his hand, and Alain saw a red sphere with a metal pin embedded in its short neck.

"I brought mana grenades," Leneth explained. "From New Mizuho. There are three kinds—Flameburst bombs, the red ones, Snowmelt bombs, blue ones, and yellow ones are Spark bombs. They're infused with potent amounts of their namesake mana and explode when their pins are pulled."

Alain, still lying flat on his back, hadn't moved. Leneth's voice was calm, but his hands and arms were shaking uncontrollably. And his eyes—they were brimming.

"I … never expected to have to use them like this." Leneth finished quietly.

Alain didn't address him further—he'd been like that during his first real battles with the Iselian vanguard, and even now, was he so different? If it weren't for Leneth, he probably would have died.

Alain pointedly ignored the corpses of the latest newly killed dragon and its rider, their wounds from the Flameburst bomb stinking and gushing blood.

He looked skywards—the riders were meandering about the skies above them in circles, well beyond their reach for even one of Alain's arrows. They weren't attacking, but they weren't retreating, either. It seemed they deigned to follow Alain and Leneth should they stray from the battle zone.

Speaking of—Alain looked over his shoulder.

Tethe'allan battleships still fired upon the quickly fading Sylvarantian fleet, the debris of ships blown to bits landing on the docks and even on the beach and some houses. The ground armed Tethe'allan forces set up lines around the city gates—they were holding a siege while their ships disposed of the enemy ships.

"This is bad," Alain whispered, biting his lip again.

Leneth followed his gaze and his lips parted.

"There are so many soldiers … there's no way we could outrun them!" Leneth muttered.

Alain nodded, craning his neck again: the riders still circled around them, like vultures over carrion. At this rate their allies would see the riders, and the troops would come and take Leneth and Alain as prisoners of war, and it wouldn't be long before Frio got wind of it.

"We just have to keep moving," Alain said, slinging his bow over his shoulder.

Leneth stared, first at Alain, and then at the dragon riders circling above them.

Alain caught the gaze.

"They'll follow us and see we're headed for Luin, yes. But they're not stupid enough to attack us head on, not after what just happened to their comrades. C'mon."

Leneth absently nodded as he and Alain began at a brisk jogging pace toward the land bridge, the shudders of the earth as a result of cannon fire weaker with distance but no less harder to swallow.

Leneth's limbs were shaking, his breath rattling in his throat. He could hardly believe he had just killed a dragon and its rider back there. It was to save himself and Alain, yes, but the prospect was scary. What was scarier other than the fact that he killed them was that they would have killed Leneth if he had not killed them first.

Granted, he doubted he'd be forgiving any Tethe'allans anytime soon, but still …

Just as Alain said, the remaining dragon riders followed them at a distance in the skies. One of them flew off toward Izoold, presumably to report to their head honcho that two stray Sylvarantians were going for Luin and warn the rest of Sylvarant of the attack on Izoold.

The last rider kept following them.

At last, when the sun began to dip into late afternoon, they had reached the land bridge.

The ocean lapped up on either side of it as Leneth and Alain crossed, their pace slowed to a swift, constant walk now that they were out of immediate danger and the war zone. Leneth's ears still rang with the cannon fire, and his body still trembled from the battle.

They were in an expanse of frighteningly open grassland when night fell.

"I wonder how many people died today," Leneth muttered as he and Alain set up camp, the fire in the center of their area throwing splayed shadows.

"Plenty," Alain said, setting up his bedroll. "Plenty Sylvarantian, plenty Tethe'allan. Probably in not the most humane way possible."

Leneth shuddered as he thought of his mana hand grenades. He was sure he'd blown off one of the dragon's limbs, certainly one of the rider's as well. He hadn't bothered to look; it was too much.

"If we stayed …" Leneth said quietly, "we would've been killed, too."

Alain didn't reply, and by that Leneth knew he spoke the truth. If they had died, not only would they have caused their parents and siblings immense grief, they would have let a piece of the Eternal Sword into enemy hands.

The way Leneth had protested not going after Frio just a few days prior had seemed so ignorant and childish now.

"I don't see the rider anywhere," Leneth said, looking skyward. Alain scanned the skies along with the horizon.

"Even the rider would need a place to crash," Alain grinned, "figuratively speaking."

That coaxed a small smile from Leneth.

For the rest of the night, lying insomniac by the fire, staring at the sky, Leneth dwelled on how his parents had wanted him and Liath to live a "normal" life free of the ravages of the world's intrigues. At the time Kratos had told him this, he hadn't quite believed it, nor had he understood.

Leneth began to think that he might understand some small measure of what his parents feared.


	8. Foothold

Hikaru: Thank for your wonderful reviews, Maurice! They're always so full of insight on how you viewed the writing and its contents--no other reviewer has ever gone into that much detail for me in a review--and not only is it detailed, but also useful. So thank you very much!

--------

Izoold had fallen easily into Tethe'alla's hands--one would think that, faced with a clearly superior enemy, they'd give in, but since it was their homeland they were guarding, the Sylvarantian vanguard here put up more of a fight then he thought them capable of. They even had to have one of their battleships deploy a ground force, for Martel's sake.

But no matter. In the end, the Tethe'allans had minimal losses and now had a firm foothold on Slyvarantian land. From here, they could push west into the desert and take over Triet, and once power had been established there, go up north to meet the Latheon armies and take the northern peninsulas. Once their strength had been sufficiently massed on this continent, Tethe'alla could finally march north from Izoold to the grand prize: Luin, the city of water and Sylvarant's capitol.

Granted, there was still a considerable armed force stationed in Asgard and then in Palmacosta, but once the capitol fell, the others would follow. And even if they didn't, Tethe'alla could easily crush them, especially with the additional power it would have from the conquered territories of Sylvarant.

Then, with the whole of the world under King Hugh's rule, he could begin to hunt for the last prize, but by no means the least: the Eternal Sword. The entire world would prosper indefinitely if the king could wield that sword!

But there was no harm in starting early, and that was just what Frio planned to do. He stood at the railing of the Tethe'allan flagship, looking over the partially destroyed city of Izoold and the decimated port, Sylvarantian shipwrecks littered all over the bay. Felled members of Sylvarant's vanguard floated in the waves, pools of blood mingling with the salt water. Farther out to sea, monsters were already enjoying the leftovers of the battle.

Frio frowned. This was the price to pay for resisting Tethe'alla and by extension King Hugh. This was the price of the king's displeasure.

"My lord Kestrel."

Frio turned to face the man addressing him, who turned out to be none other than the admiral of this fleet. Frio gave a small smile.

"Admiral, sir, surely there's no need to be so formal."

The admiral, much older than Frio and certainly with more experience in battles than he had, seemed uneasy at the very least.

"But, my lord, you are our king's representative, his eyes and ears on the battlefield. To address one such as you casually is a bit ..."

Frio gave a half shrug.

"Be that as it may, I was only raised in our king's court. I am not of royal blood or even noble status, as far as I know, and our king has yet to tell me of my parentage, other than ... my mother was a half-elf."

If the previous silence was awkward, it was nothing compared this unholy silence now. Half-elves were at the bottom of Tethe'alla's caste system, and although for a time, under the previous king's reign, there were movements against half-elf discrimination of all kinds, under King Hugh all those movements were disbanded and its members imprisoned for causing public unrest.

Indeed these movements did cause public unrest in Tethe'alla--for hundreds, perhaps even thousands, of years half-elves had been at the bottom of the caste system and the treatment of half-elves that went with it had been the norm for generations.

The movements pro-half-elves for their rights as citizens of Tethe'alla had brought in too much change too quickly. Add in the attempted abolishment of the Church of Martel ...

Indeed the last twenty or so years of Tethe'alla had been tremulous ones. The previous king had been poisoned in an attempted assassination by the Pope, who then had been displaced and relieved of his position, and the king's health had been in a questionable state. The people of Tethe'alla and members of the House of Lords had questioned whether or not the king was still in a right mind to rule, but never acted on it.

That changed around a year or so later, when the king had attempted, at the Chosen's say-so, to abolish the Church of Martel. The Chosen, along with his companions, had been spreading some cock-and-bull story about Cruxis being false and the Goddess Martel being only a symbolic entity, but there was some truth in it--the worlds of Sylvarant and Tethe'alla had been united into one by the power of Origin and the Eternal Sword.

Needless to say, the people of not only Tethe'alla, but Sylvarant had been growing uneasy and uncertain, everything they'd been raised to believe in thrown into the ugly shadow of doubt.

That was when the House of Lords devised a solution--the king was getting senile in his old age and ill health, and Hilda must become Queen of Tethe'alla--but they doubted she had much of a head for ruling. The answer was obvious, someone must marry into the royal family, someone capable and willing to pull this country back together. It was such a mess that no one wanted to, until a young Lord Hugh stepped up to the plate. He was only the son of a viscount of the Gaoracchia lands, but he was young and handsome--he could woo the princess-to-be-queen.

Soon Lord Hugh had succeeded in marrying Queen Hilda and effectively became King of Tethe'alla. He brought stability back into people's lives by restoring the old caste system as well as the Church of Martel.

As part of the movement, Frio had been told his half-elf mother was deemed unfit, and King Hugh himself took him in to be raised in his court, as his father had been imprisoned. Frio was grateful to the king--he may be part half-elf, but his father had been human, so he was human through and through, with a sprinkling of elfish blood. That sprinkling had allowed him to be able to use magic to some degree, and that had allowed him to learn the art of summoning.

Frio was now doing his best to serve his king and adoptive father of a kind--he'd already made pacts with some of the Tethe'allan Spirits, and now he would begin his Sylvarantian campaign.

"My lord," the admiral continued, ignoring Frio's previous statement, "how shall we handle the establishment of Tethe'alla in Izoold?"

Frio turned to look to the city again. So many people, men, women, and even children had died in the defense of the city, only a small amount of its original population remained. It would be no major task to keep them in line.

"Rebuild whatever buildings, especially civilian buildings, have been destroyed or partially destroyed in the battle. Tend any wounded, and allow them to keep their houses and possessions under the conditions of yielding to Tethe'allan rule and reserving the use of their port for Tethe'alla after we rebuild it."

The admiral nodded and bowed slightly before hurrying off to carry out the orders. Frio may not be of royal or noble blood, but here he was the king's representative and by proxy carried the king's authority.

As for Izoold ... they would see resistance would be futile, and might even think better of Tethe'alla for rebuilding their town and taking care of its people when the Tethe'allans could have more easily wiped out the remaining population. Yes, this was the Tethe'allan way to conquer--take care of what she conquered, gain the people's trust, and above all, make being part of Tethe'alla look enticing. That way, there would be less hassle in the long run for the conquering of Sylvarant.

Frio drummed his fingers rhythmically on the railing of the battleship.

The orders were given, now he had time to think about where he would move for his own mission. He could go west with the rest of the army in the desert to make a pact with Efreet, or go north to seek out Luna, Aska, or Sylph. Or he could even track down that pair of teenagers ... what were their names? Alain and Leneth. Alain could use angel's sight, a technique Frio had heard tell of but never saw it worked with his own eyes. The angel's sight allowed Frio to get a good taste of Alain's mana signature trail.

What's more, they were the pair described to be heading from the Iselian region, carrying a fragment of the Eternal Sword with them. Frio had sent a part of the Draconian Air Force after them--but since Izoold was such a small, almost inconsequential town minus the port, the squadron they'd ended up getting for this battle wasn't the most elite of the Draconian Air Force. Only one of them had returned, and to report that most of the squadron was wiped out! Incompetent fools! How tough could two teenagers be to apprehend?

There was still one rider following them, but he had yet to return, either. Nonetheless, judging from the mana signature trail, Frio could guess at their destination--Luin, the capitol of Sylvarant, to keep their fragment of the Eternal Sword safe in the heart of Sylvarant and warn of the oncoming Tethe'allan invasion.

But Alain seemed to be no fool, and there was no way that he would lead the dragon rider to Sylvarantian heartland. The question was, where would they go? Where would they run?

Frio already had a few Spirits under his belt, and some of them were very powerful--Volt and Gnome, for example.

There could be no harm in going after the grandest prize early.


	9. The Village of Adventurers, Hima

Hikaru: I apologize for the brief hiatus.

-------------------------

Leneth did not sleep easily that night. He kept tossing and turning, waking abruptly with nightmares of an advancing Tethe'allan army marching across Sylvarant and destroying anything and everything that got in their way. He had nightmares about every last city falling to the destruction, everyone he knew fighting with all their might and dying in the attempt.

Alain, Waltharia, Orochi, Liath, Kratos, his mother and father ...

Leneth _hated_ war.

But upon his waking in the morning, Leneth noticed that Alain didn't seem to be bothered much by the grave situation at hand. The younger highly doubted that was truly the case, but Alain, for as long as Leneth had known him, had always been good at hiding things.

Something was afoot, for Alain had woke Leneth early in the morning, far earlier than they usually roused from sleep.

"What's up?" Leneth asked as he assisted in cleaning up camp.

Alain shot a glance over his shoulder, toward the direction where Luin would be.

"The rider wouldn't attack us head on, but if we retreat to Luin, he and his dragon could easily launch a surprise attack, even on his own. Sooner or later the Tethe'allans will seek to invade Luin, but right now that rider's mission is only us and what we have in our possession."

Leneth stared at Alain, who was still busying himself getting ready for the road.

"So we're not ... going to Luin?"

Alain shook his head. "No, not right now. To do so would provoke the dragon rider to attack the city, and Luin isn't even prepared for an invasion of any kind."

"But ..." Leneth's mind raced with the visions of his nightmares, of the all-destroying Tethe'allan army. "Where will we go? There's an entire army right behind us!"

Alain pointed behind Leneth, to a reddish brown mountain range on the horizon.

"The village of adventurers, Hima."

But Leneth was still bursting with questions, such as, how long would they bide there? How long could they stay out of enemy hands that way? And who would warn Luin of an impending Tethe'allan invasion?

Yes, Leneth supposed that a message could be sent, but there would still be the matter of guarding their piece of the Eternal Sword. If Hima was invaded, then it would be only a matter of time before they claim the Vorpal sword. And Leneth didn't even want to think about what would happen if Liath were ...

No, Liath would be fine. She always managed to beat him in their sparring sessions, and she was even a match for Orochi. Combine her combat skill with the magic that Kratos taught her ... Yes, Leneth would believe, had to believe that Liath and Withi would be just fine. He and Alain had to worry about themselves right now.

"What are we going to do all the way in Hima?" Leneth pressed.

Alain's brow was furrowed, and he didn't seem to have any patience this morning.

"Look, will you just trust me on this? Let's go."

The journey to Hima was rather uneventful, nothing to speak of but for some occasional fights with monsters, mostly wolves and giant insectoids. Leneth would never look at lady bugs the same way again.

As the mountains loomed ever closer, Leneth took note of something: he didn't see the dragon rider anywhere. Had he stopped following them? Had he seen them change course and gone back to report it? Somehow the absence of their follower bothered him--if the rider was gone now, wouldn't that make the trip to Luin safer?

But just because a dragon could fly doesn't mean it has to. They could still be followed, and there was no point taking chances.

They reached Hima by late afternoon. Leneth had heard of the so-called "village" of adventurers; his parents said before that there was only an inn there with would-be adventurers and an eccentric dragon wrangler.

But upon entering the vicinity, Hima was not just a lone inn. In the years since his parents had visited this place it must have expanded, if only a little. It was by no means a big village, but it was far from the lonely inn it had been before.

The Sylvarantian vanguard was here. With a grimace Leneth realized why the little inn must have expanded--the vanguard was stationed here as well.

At the gate the village watch called down to them from their lookout towers.

"Who goes there?"

"Alain N. Brunel, son of Colette and Noishe Brunel of Iselia," Alain answered, "and Leneth Fujibayashi-Irving, son of Lloyd and Sheena Fujibayashi-Irving of New Mizuho."

"Sons of village leaders?" one of the guards called. "Why come all the way here?"

"We come bearing news of Tethe'alla's aggression."

"Tethe'alla's declared war on us, it has. Just a second--open the main gate!"

The wooden double-doors of the gate opened, and Alain and Leneth hustled inside. The gate was closed after their passage. There were indeed ordinary villagers here, although Leneth inwardly supposed they were the families of the soldiers in the vanguard.

They were taken to the inn to meet up with one of the leaders of Hima's vanguard, a man by the name of Pietro. They were set down to a meal, a pleasant change from the meager lunches they'd had on the road.

Pietro waited for them to finish before asking the question.

"What sort of news do you bring?"

Leneth was still polishing off the last of his food, so Alain answered in his stead.

"Tethe'alla has invaded Sylvarant."

There was a collective exclamation about the inn, soldiers of the vanguard as well as the ordinary people in the inn.

Pietro frowned deeply.

"You are sure of this?"

Alain nodded in response.

"Yes, we witnessed it. Tethe'alla has captured Izoold."

"When was this?"

"Just the other day."

Pietro folded his hands, his eyes distant. Leneth, by now done eating, studied him. Pietro looked ... tired, as if he had been through many difficult times to last more than a single lifetime, and yet here he was, thrust into more hardships.

"I see. Anything else we ought to be aware of?"

"Yes." Leneth said before Alain could, "there's a Tethe'allan dragon rider following us."

"A dragon rider," Pietro repeated slowly. "We've heard that the Tethe'allans had militarized flying dragons, but ..."

"We haven't seen the rider on our way here," Leneth continued, "but there's no reason not to be careful. And also, they--"

"Were dispatched from the Tethe'allan detachment that captured Izoold." Alain said quickly.

Leneth gave Alain a look, jaw unhinged. Why had Alain cut him off from one of the most important issues regarding the war? But Leneth had no opportunity to enter it into the conversation any more; Alain and Pietro were the main participants now.

"We have begun to militarize the indigenous flying dragons around Hima as well," Pietro said, "thanks mostly to the help of the ... enthusiastic dragon wrangler. I'm certain we should be able to hold off any attack this lone rider might attempt here."

"I thought so. That's why we came here rather than directly to Luin. Speaking of, will you send a message to Luin about Tethe'alla's invasion?" Alain asked, completely ignoring the daggers Leneth glared at him.

"Of course," Pietro said. "We will prepare a message to send by dragon at once. But you've had a long journey, why don't you rest for now?"

Alain inclined his head as a show of respect for Pietro.

"Yes, thank you very much."

Leneth waited until they were led to their room before he rounded on Alain.

"Why did you stop me from telling them about the sword?"

Alain gave a scowl to match Leneth's glare.

"Have you considered the possibility of spies in the vanguard?"

Leneth worked his jaw, no sound coming forth. No, the thought never crossed his mind even once during the journey. If there were spies in the vanguard, then freely speaking of their piece of the Eternal Sword was like painting a huge target mark on their backs.

Leneth heaved a sigh, sinking down on his bed by the window. His elbows were propped on his knees, chin resting on folded hands. His eyes were downcast.

"I'm sorry. I've been nothing but a burden from the start."

"No you haven't."

Leneth looked up at Alain, jaw slack.

"You saved my life, Leneth. If you hadn't been there, those dragons would have killed me. Besides," Alain's hands began to shake, clenched into fists, "it's my fault the Tethe'allans even know that we have a piece of the Eternal Sword."

"How?" Leneth demanded. "it's not like you sauntered up to them and said, 'Hey, guess what? We've got a piece of the Eternal Sword!' "

"I might as well have!" Alain retorted. "You know how I used angel's sight to look for Frio?"

Leneth nodded slowly, but he still didn't know what that had to do with anything.

"Well, it turns out that Frio had sensed me looking for him. He caught my mana signature trail ... and found out about Vorpal."

Leneth froze. "No, that couldn't ... you never actually said anything! So how could Frio know?"

But even as he said that, Leneth had a feeling he knew how Frio found out. Frio was a summoner, had great magical ability. And if Alain had been seeking him through angel's sight, that meant he sought a connection of a sort with said personage. And from there, once Frio caught Alain's mana signature ...

Frio, too, had been able to see Alain and Leneth whenever Alain had sought him out. And when he did, he had seen their piece of the Eternal Sword.

"Alain. We're still here. So they know we have it--that's not the same as getting a hold of it. Right?"

Alain gave a small smile.

" ... Right. Let's not lose heart now."

They were going to need every ounce of strength, physical and mental, to ensure the Tethe'allans never got their hands on the Eternal Sword.


End file.
